


Placebo

by ChocoSand



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Dark Romance, Dark fic, F/M, Joseb - Freeform, M/M, Mystery, Sebjo, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but i guess it helps, placebo effect, pre-TEW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 21:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11700414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoSand/pseuds/ChocoSand
Summary: Sebastian and Joseph keep themselves distracted from their lives with work. Anything to keep them from thinking about their uncertain future--anything to distract their dark and intrusive thoughts. Cases may be solved, but something always remains to replace a part of themselves they sacrificed in order to understand the criminal mind and be victorious.Coping isn't always easy--nor is giving up.





	Placebo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delina/gifts).



> Greetings!  
> Hello and Salutations.  
> This is something I wrote on a whim for Del--so please enjoy.   
> I wanted to make this as seemingly realistic and relative to the characters and events of the game. Personally, I feel that both Sebastian AND Joseph have their own demons given the events of TEW. A mind of strong will and determination is hard to penetrate and take over--but a mind that's tired and weak, and filled with doubts can easily be swayed. I wanted to focus on the perspectives the two have and maybe add a little teasing thought and idea of romance. It is not a happy ending romance--nor is it really a sweet and kind romance. This is indeed a romance built on being a placebo and coping mechanism.   
> I am not an advocate of such romance, and there must be a fine line between friendship and having a commensalism [a relationship where neither is harmed, but neither gains] based partnership before it becomes parasitic.   
> I really didn't want to make this a series since I'm busy as of late, but--perhaps it may become a small one.  
> Please, everyone... Enjoy.

**I**

   Rain always had a particular smell. It had it's own particular sensations too; giving a haunting sensibility of just being utterly drenched. Smothered even by the burden of the foolishness in walking without an umbrella and braving the sorrows and blessings of nature. Its aroma was just as clingy as it's state of matter too.   
The damp scent it carried was usually heedy--heavy with what Joseph assumed to be the mixed concoction of what little of nature remained in the city, and the grime of humanity and its constructs. How the smell alone just made everything feel much more…  _ damp.  _   
Of course the humidity would increase.    
But, it still remained an odd sensation! Being indoors and viewing the dark and wet city awashed with drops; a melting painting-- and yet feeling so trapped in a bubble of moisture.  
   And still, it seemed  so comforting and soothing, that hushed lullaby. Then again--the television on and the latest terrible sitcoms would in fact erase any unease. A placebo, and a horribly addictive one if left unattended to the correct channel.    
So when Joseph--by means of his rained on, reflective window-- caught himself glowering  _ again,  _ he scoffed. His expression, when lost in thought, was one he was often picked on--one Kidman, if he so recalled;  _ and he did-- _ had teased him for. The furrow of brows and lips pressed tight, his slender eyes pinched, and his mood-- stern.    
He couldn’t help it if he was swallowed up in his thoughts and analysis of human patterns and their somewhat addictive personalities. Or the rain…  
It was programmed into him!    
It was a part of who he currently was, and it was a part of the reason he was a  _ valuable  _ asset to the Krimson City Police Department; so he believed.   
He sighed and felt the prickle of frustration tickle his scalp that he so eagerly scratched his at.  
_ I did it again,  _ Joseph mused once more.   
Some habits were hard to fade away--and with a recent case he and his partner solved involving a  woman whose crimes she committed were in tune with the weather--was still a freshly imprinted one. How odd of a case it was indeed, one in which the woman attained grand understandings and epiphany’s  in the shapes of clouds, sculpted from wind patterns. Messages in correlation to being given a sign from an extraterrestrial warrior on a pilgrimage, that could only be transmitted through cloud shapes, had  _ nothing  _ to do with it. But, it had  _ everything  _ to do with how he and Sebastian had to think, process, and watch the news and all weather programs attentively.  
It was an odd requirement to study and it was always taxing to mock or mimic the role or patterns of a criminal.  
Perhaps the rain made him a self suffering philosophist.    
  


   And for a moment, and minor indulgence to his once again wandering mind, Joseph entertained the reasoning behind his partners affinity for alcohol. It  _ would  _ help forget the troubles in his career and life.    
Things had been particularly stressful as of late.  
Here and there, they had been receiving calls and complaints of guests of the installed patients at Beacon Memorial Hospital.    
At times, it was a simple encroaching of loved ones growing hysterical due to the implant of another patient--a shared room. Sometimes, it was due to discord within the staff--the occasional scuffle between a doctor and nurse, or doctor and patient. Lastly, and more recently, there was the odd set and nagging calls that happened once every few weeks or month of a man with bandages meandering about the facility with no records of being a guest or patient.    
It was those types of particular calls that left the hairs on Joseph’s neck stand. Calls like that were simply ticking time bombs, one that he hoped would diffuse itself.    
Not only did the stress nag at him and all others at the KCPD, it was also a constant reminder to Sebastian--or so he assumed. Hospitals, and burned victims had a single correlation for the man--  **‘fire’** . 

 

_Damnit’,_ ** _again_** _\--I ‘ought to really stop this habit._ Joseph chided to himself with a frown and sigh. The removal of glasses and the soothing pressure and rub to his strained eyes and temple from being lost in thought to further prove frustration.  
“Hey--” a voice interrupted him.  
Woke Joseph from his stupor even as he was rather taken aback by the sudden drop of files on his desk, and the small--though strained smirk on his partners face for catching him off guard.  
“You know--you’re lucky Kidman isn’t here to taunt you for your R-B-F.” quipped Sebastian.  
The soft murmurs of voices and the hum of ringing telephones surfaced back to Joseph. And the man was slowly becoming conscious with a dazed expression of awe to the dawning realization that he was in-fact at his desk on a sunny afternoon, at the KCPD.  
Sebastian, with his unkempt hair and lack-of-care for his over all appearance, remained rather smug and content to rest himself against the edge of Joseph's desk. The weight of the man causing the wood to groan at the departments show of appreciation for ‘updated furniture’. Last year's model was in truth the last tens years.

“Well I suppose I'm lucky enough to have you fill in for her.” said Joseph. Taunting and teasing was never his strongest suit, and if his disheveled friend had any reply to give, it was lost to another wail of a ringing phone.  
Another call from Beacon Memorial and another somber exhale to escape from Sebastian.  
Truly, life was too cruel to the man --as Joseph had half a mind to find whoever was in charge of security at that hospital and tell them to hire more guards. Or to just simply grow a pair, and put their crowd control training to use--even if it was for a simple scuffle.  
Nevertheless, he would make effort to distract Sebastian from his aches and woes. A haunting to his body he had often and quite firmly ignored in selfishness.  
It was a skill Joseph felt himself becoming extremely competent in as of late.    
Anything to beckon the distraught man away from the siren's call of whiskey. When in truth, becoming a self fulfilled guardian to Sebastian's problems, was just another distraction away from his  _ own _ . And it was a bit terrifying that his friend and partner in the force knew this.  
But he supposed that was simply the nature of their relationship.  
     Dwelling on such thoughts and feelings was never wise nor a good idea when work was involved. Joseph prided himself in his control of emotions and logic. Personal feelings had _ no  _ place of existence in the work field-- _ especially  _ theirs. 

         “ _ Detective --”  _ he commanded, in which Sebastian was pulled sharply from his own thoughts. His hands caressing the folder in a manner of business, plucking and pulling its contents to mull over, “--do you mind explaining to me the nature of this case?” 

          Sebastian had felt his mouth dry. Parched even, and of course, the elixir to his problems was a forbidden nectar, and one that the prowling eyes of his partner would not hesitate to reprimand him for. And as he was pulled back into the swing of things, Sebastian cleared his throat with a shrug of the shoulders and shift of his leg for comforts on that cheap desk.  
      “Yeah--sure.” He knew he was doing it again.  
Fiddling with his wedding band. He also knew that the action wasn't lost from the ever observant partner, Joseph. Those dark eyes were compassionate but also distant; a part of Joseph was already trying to find a way, a salve. But pain wasn't easily triggered by phone calls from the hospital. Not for him.  
Pain simply was a part of him, and it was something he wasn't prepared to let go of. Letting go completely meant moving on.

Giving up.

Sebastian Castellanos was not a quitter--stubborn, but not someone who willingly gave up. Nor was Joseph Oda, not while he had his collective conscious and self awareness bound to him-- and he had plenty.  
But, Sebastian supposed that was the nature of their relationship. He would simply just endure that odd sense of comfort and be thankful not everyone had given up on him. Be it tender or tough love. As frustrating as Joseph was, it was nice to know someone had the better of him in mind.  
Even if it got him in trouble.

          That was the end of his thoughts.   
Announced by the groaning of his partner's desk as Sebastian stood and turned to brace the edge. Hunched over, he began to scour over the reports laid out with a honed gaze, plucking and capturing the key words and elements to focus on. Some of the papers were honestly filler and a waste of resources--best put to use in a recycling bin.  
Offering him more space, Joseph dragged his seat aside and eagerly rested his elbow and weight on the desk. An appreciative smile was shared before he continued on, shuffling through paper and laying out the more important details out. The candid photos of a young woman hovering around the city park.    
She was beautiful, youthful, and also stuck out like a sore thumb against the warm summer greenery in her long, red coat. The next series of images were of a child that held a smile so bright and happy--it pulled at an odd sensation. “Cute family.” said Joseph offhandedly.    
“Yeah-- a sister and brother case. Kid’s been abducted-- or so we assume, not much of a lead, but there were some witnesses. I think.” Sebastian shrugged, his hands and eyes busy reading through the reports with much experience.   
“You  _ think?”  _ Joseph pressed with skepticism. He didn’t have much trust in the manner in which Sebastian spoke so nonchalantly about child abduction--something wasn’t adding up.  
    “Hold on Joseph--let me finish before you pick at my brain.” he snorted with a bouncing hand, “Anyways, kid’s abducted--there were ‘some’ witnesses--” Sebastian amended with finger quotations, “ suddenly he turns up again, and he and this woman are seen wandering the park again.” Another pause and with a chuckle of disbelief, Sebastian tosses a paper clipped report of the woman in red lying in a medical bed with eyes shut, beaten, and bruised. Her dark hair matted to her face which is partially covered by a doctor in the way of focus and breathing mask. “But get this-- weeks later, the sister is admitted into Beacon and the kid is again nowhere to be seen. And what little response they could get from her was a-- _ ‘ The red hot tongue of lies haunts the bloodline.’ _ ”  Even repeating it to his equally befuddled partner had Sebastian sighing and shaking his head with a shrug and dismissive scratch of his head.    
Again, they were put on another weird case.   
Weird wasn’t even an appropriate word for it--but it was simply the best way to attempt describing it.  
Joseph scoffed and leaned into his arm, his weight and the weight of information burdened upon his desk. But Sebastian could see the wheels turning on the mans face. Slender eyes roving over the photos and lettering of the paper--it reminded him of his searching gaze upon him, and with a bit of wonderment, Sebastian entertained the notion if this is how the man stared at him when he was in pain. So concentrated and pulled into the void of his brain and the knowledge stored in there--what odd thoughts and notes did he make of him?  
   “And now she’s missing too…” exhaled Joseph with a frown and empathetic shake of his head. The call for the missing persons was by an _ H. Ellunths _ . A man who was apparently, a distant cousin of the two and recently transplanted into the city to be with his remaining relatives.    
If Sebastian were to be honest-- he wanted nothing to do with the case. Push it to Kidman or another rookie and he’d be perfectly fine with that pay cut. It reeked with the potential of heavy burdens and pain to bear, reminders of things he just wanted to let go of. Already there was an unease growing in the pit of his stomach. And if he mentioned his hesitance, he was sure that Joseph would support him to shove it onto another, offer some advice to the rookies, and let them take the roles of mentors versus detective and partner.    
But he couldn’t deny the pull that this case brought with it too. That if he and Joseph were on it, that perhaps they--he-- could find something or maybe even rewire their brains to think in a new direction or perspective so that maybe-- _ maybe...  
_ He could find a new clue to the odd hand he was dealt with his wife and daughter.


End file.
